House of Wolves
by Warpath Grizzly
Summary: Sköll was brought forcibly into the world, under curses that damn her to a lifetime of torment, no matter what side happens to win the war. She cannot save herself. She can only save those she loves or the people she robbed of their freedom, but not both.
1. Canine Minds

Sweat dripped down Sköll's face as she stood, looking down at the floor of Malfoy Manor. The tension in the air was palpable, as was the fear that ran rampant through the room. Sköll was sure that her knees where visibly shaking, but thankfully they were hidden safely by the chair which she stood behind. The silence wasn't doing anything to protect her however, as she could hear her shaking breaths grow louder and louder as the seconds to _his_ arrival wound down until there were none at all, and she felt as though she might scream from the pressure. In fact, she nearly did scream when the pale, sliver of a man came in and began winding his way like a black cloaked serpent between the darkly stained backs of the magnificent seats that each of the Death Eaters occupied. He greeted them in a terrible, raspy voice that seemed incapable of any warmth. As he slid closer and closer towards Sköll, the voice seemed to engrain itself into her; like a set of nails being dragged across her skin. When he finally spotted the young girl, his eyes narrowed, and he approached her rather quickly, only to slow his actions upon inspecting her.

"And what, my friends," He started, skimming his stiff fingers just beneath the ends of Sköll's hair. "Do we have here?"

"That would be Sköll, my Lord." The owner of the manor said slyly. Voldemort suddenly retracted and hissed, reaching for his wand and placing the Cruciatus curse upon the young girl. Her already weakened knees buckled beneath her as she tumbled, writhing in the pain that the spell inflicted upon her. She managed to look up at the man in the chair she had been behind, and cried out to him. She screamed for him to help her, but neither his head nor even his eyes turned as the pain that wracked her body grew fiercer.

In a split second, the pain was gone, but she was flung across the room, then dragged back harshly, seemingly by thin air, and made to levitate above the dark wood table that the others sat around. Her heart was beating so fast she swore that everyone present at the table could at least hear it, if not see it pounding its way through her chest. The levitation spell held the girl firmly and steadily, though it didn't stop the falling feeling in her stomach; that combined with the previous abuse made her want to throw up. All eyes were on her now, and so she made another attempt to call for help.

"Dad," She croaked out in fear, begging the man she called her father to do something to help her; but he just watched like all the others around her. It was the sheer indifference in his eyes that finally drew the tears from her eyes. She cried miserably and shivered from the residual pain that shot randomly through her nerves, like leftover electricity sparking after an overload.

"I never want to see this inferior creature again. Put it outside in the dirt where it belongs." Voldemort ordered, casually flicking a bright green spell at the levitating girl. Her eyes locked onto those of her father's as the spell caught her in the back, and she fell.

* * *

Sköll's leg gave a jerk, waking her before her dream body hit the table. The girl stared at the ceiling for a moment, recovering her thoughts. Where was she?

Right; she was at home. A sleepy grunt from beside her reminded her that she was in her apartment, safely tucked between two walls. The first made of drywall, designed to protect her from the elements that howled outside, and the second made of muscle, designed to protect her from everything else. She tugged the meagre blanket up and over her nose, and squiggled closer to the second wall, looking for the heat that the first wall was incapable of providing. Fenrir's eyes reluctantly opened themselves as he took a look at the clock set on top of several boxes that made up a sort of bedside table. The digital numbers told him that it was currently 4:12Am, and that he had overslept.

Yawning, the giant of a man stretched, careful not to smash his daughter into the wall that the bed was pressed up against. He stood sleepily, and shook himself before making his way over to the small, albeit clean, bathroom and began his morning routine. He had a staring contest with himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, and as he stared, the wheels in his head finally began to turn.

Today was the day he introduced Sköll to his team, and took her out on her first hunt.

A knot grew in his throat at the thought, pride in his daughter being overrun by fear for her life. Being a snatcher might look glorious at the moment, they were being paid good money and had the favour of the ministry; but that wouldn't last. He may have been ugly, but he wasn't stupid. Fenrir knew there was no winning this war; he could feel it in his gut. What kept him fighting for the Dark Lord was his acceptance of what he was. No one but the Dark Lord would hire a werewolf, and when the war had started, for the first time in his history of fatherhood, he was able to provide for his little girl. Well, she wasn't so little anymore he supposed. She was larger than the average human female, enough so to be comparable in strength to the average human male.

Fenrir stripped and stepped into the shower, so small it could barely contain his form. He would have widened it a bit, but he constantly forgot to do so.

At least in the tent shower he wouldn't be so cramped. Ah, the tent. That would be a luxury for this trip. He was so proud of Sköll for thinking of it, and a smile crossed Fenrir's face as pride swelled in his chest. His daughter was so smart.

The tent was big enough for his whole team and then some, and all he had to do was stuff it into a bag that was small enough to fit in his pocket.

Yet for all the luxuries, he couldn't help but want to leave Sköll at the apartment, as he always had. Terrible things would happen to her after the war, when there would no longer be any need for Snatchers, and she would be forced to live a doubly cursed life if she even lived past that point. He was seriously considering sneaking out and leaving her, when he heard tap water running in the sink. _Too late._ She was up, and would follow him anywhere at that point.

Fenrir shut off the water and reached for his towel, which Sköll handed to him as she brushed her own teeth. As she cleaned herself of the nightly grime, her father's thoughts wandered back to the tent, thinking about where he should have her sleep. He didn't want her too close to the wall, so as to catch a draft, but at the same time he wanted to be between her and the men he commanded. They were called Snatchers for a reason. He supposed a top bunk would do, but then he didn't want her falling off and injuring herself.

All too soon Sköll was dressed, and it was time for the father and daughter pair to go meet up at the ministry to receive their new target assignment. As they walked Sköll looked up at her father nervously, so to relax her, he smirked and shoved her gently with his elbow. She shoved him back a bit harder with her shoulder, making him put his arm around her neck, pull her close, and give her a noogie. She squirmed and cried out in protest, and he laughed heartily as she glared up at him and attempted to fix her now thoroughly frazzled hair. Her mood remained at a playfully standoffish level for the rest of their trip, that was until they got to the ministry, and wherever they went, all eyes fell upon them. Whispers of fear and rumours flew behind them like vultures following a cart of rotting meat. Sköll wanted desperately to grab her father's hand and push herself against his side, though she refrained, keeping an air fearlessness about herself, hopefully mimicking the aura her father was giving off. Little did she know that her father was just as worried as she was, and wondered just how Sköll could walk the halls of the ministry, seemingly unaffected by the prying eyes of the wizards that surrounded them. The pair entered one of the many elevators, followed by none other than the man she had seen in her dream, and his son.

"Malfoy," Fenrir said, using the man's name as his only greeting.

"Greyback," Lucius said with a nod of the head, acknowledging the werewolf's presence. Both men's children remained silent, though Draco looked slightly weary of having his back to the younger of the werewolves. He stole worried glances back at Sköll, seeming to determine whether she posed a threat or not. At last when their stop came, both families vacated the lift, with Draco scurrying ahead ever so slightly. Had Sköll not been so nervous of what was to come, she might very well have let out a chuckle.

The Greybacks followed the Malfoys until they came to a courtroom, over which presided a stout little woman dressed in a pink outfit. By the look of things, she had been interrogating some poor person that had been snatched prior to the Greybacks arriving at the ministry. Perhaps, thought Sköll, this was someone whom her father had caught himself. A wave of pity swept over her as she noticed the tears streaking down the woman's face. She didn't want to put people through that misery, but she needed the money that their capture provided.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, there are a few matters we need to discuss, but first I must deal with these half-breeds." The woman in pink said in a sickly sweet voice that made the hairs on Sköll's neck bristle. A growl was bubbling in her throat when she felt a sideways glance from her father. The growl was immediately subsided, and Sköll grew silent again.

"I've come to register a new Snatcher." Fenrir said calmly, nudging his daughter forward. The woman looked at Sköll with a mixture of hatred and disgust before taking out a delicate pink quill and a piece of parchment.

"Name?" She asked, looking as though she would be impressed if the she-wolf could speak.

"Sköll Greyback," She said, feeling as though the pink woman was trying to intimidate her. The woman smiled horribly and leaned forward.

"I need your real name, not the name this half-breed has given you."

"The name he gave me is my real name; I am Sköll Greyback." Sköll affirmed, and again, Fenrir felt proud of his daughter. He didn't know why exactly, but he did, and it was enough to make him affirm that her name was indeed, as she had said it was.

"This is your pup, then, Greyback?" The woman asked, scribbling a few things down on the parchment.

"She's my daughter," He said, correcting her. She smiled and nodded in a manner that reminded Sköll of the sound that nails make when dragged across a chalkboard.

"Yes well, you will receive confirmation of the registration in a few weeks time. Until then, here is your assignment." She said, handing Fenrir a piece of parchment, which he snatched quickly from her hand, and promptly walked away, determined to get away from the pink puff as soon as he could. Sköll trotted after him, just as eager as her father to be rid of the woman.

"Do you have the floo powder?" Fenrir asked. Sköll nodded and began rummaging around in the small bag that carried the tent, amongst other things. She pulled from it another small bag, and offered the greyish dust that it contained to her father.

"Go to the Leaky Cauldron and get four rooms." He instructed, and took a bit of the powder. He then nudged his reluctant daughter into the fireplace.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Sköll said clearly, and tossed the powder onto the ground.

Seeing his daughter disappear, Fenrir stepped in next.

"Knockturn Ally," He commanded, and disappeared himself, in a flash of green flame.

A moment later, the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace suddenly erupted into a shower of green sparks, and threw from its mouth the youngest Greyback. The pub's occupants didn't notice her much; a few looked fearfully to see exactly what had emitted the green flash, but upon realising that it was merely floo powder, they returned to their butterbeers and fire whiskeys.

She made her way to the bar, where the owner was drying some mugs.

"I need four rooms please," She said to him, which made him frown.

"Terribly sorry miss, we only have two left."

"That's fine, I'll take those two." She said, placing a few galleons on the counter. He took them, and gave her two silver keys.

"Rooms 4 and 5. Enjoy your stay miss." He said with a warm smile. She thanked him, enjoying the welcome while she could. It wouldn't be long before the whole wizarding community knew her face, and could place it in their minds next to the name she carried. When that moment came, she knew that besides her father, no one would look at her with anything but hatred, fear, or murderous intent.


	2. Eggs And Toast

It felt like only minutes after Sköll had fallen asleep that night, that she was being nudged awake again by her father. Against her own will, she pushed herself out of bed and began blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Stumbling her way into the bathroom, she nearly broke her nose when it collided with Fenrir's back.

"Dad get out,"

She ordered, rubbing her nose. Fenrir looked at her strangely, chewing on his toothbrush as he took a quick comb to his hair.

"Why?"

He asked, his voice muffled from the toothpaste in his mouth.

"Because I have to pee, now go away!"

She snapped, making her father jump slightly. He wasn't used to her being so demanding, especially in the morning. It was only when dealing with food that she was like that. She slammed the door in his face, and knowing that he now had nowhere to spit, he pushed the window open, and dropped his jaw. He didn't bother to stay long enough to find out exactly how disgusted the muggle below had been. Hearing the water of the shower being turned on, Fenrir sighed in exasperation and sat down, wishing he had a mug of tea and a copy of the Daily Prophet right about now. Instead he chose to take a look outside for a few minutes. That was until his senses perked up, letting the werewolf know something was about to happen. Sure enough, there was a short knock on the door just as Sköll got out of the bathroom in not but a towel.

"Dad, have you seen my clo-"

She began, only to be knocked clean off her feet by the front door swinging open harshly. Her towel flung from her body, landing absolutely nowhere near anything that needed covering. She looked up at the man who had opened it, trying to cover herself up at the same time, only to have him grab her arm and bring her roughly to her feet.

"Sorry love, job's over. Time for you to leave now."

The man said, hushing her every time she tried to protest. He pushed her outside the door, flung the towel at her, and closed the door to her room behind him.

On the other side, Fenrir wore a look of complete shock.

"Scabior!"

He cried, outraged that the man had the audacity to do such a thing.

"What? She's a tart mate, not your damned bird!"

Fenrir bared his teeth and grabbed Scabior's collar, tossing him aside and opening the door, quickly scooping the quivering girl into his arms.

"She's not a tart, she's my daughter!"

Fenrir yelled, slamming the door closed with his foot. While Scabior recovered from past events, Fenrir sat Sköll down on the edge of her bed and wrapped her in the blanket. He took out his wand and began fixing the eyebrow that had nearly been taken off when Scabior had thrown the door open. It was split and bleeding, but otherwise it looked clean. He then cleaned the remaining blood up with a wet cloth.

"Christ Fen, you never told me you 'ad a girl!"

Scabior protested, rubbing the back of his head. He hadn't suspected that Fenrir would toss him into a wall, so he hadn't properly braced for it. Hell he had expected Fenrir to be asleep and this whole situation had –obviously- caught him completely by surprise.

Sköll was just as surprised as he was. She had been warned that Scabior liked to flirt with any woman he saw, not take their heads off with doors and throw them naked into hallways. Still, when her father had turned her head to begin healing her injury, she took the opportunity to take a look at the wizard known as Scabior. He was tall, as far as she could tell by the long legs sprawled out on the floor, and all around a rough looking character. His long hair was tied back, though a few pieces were falling out of the ribbon that was supposed to be keeping them there. His face was rather rugged, and despite his blue eyes, they appeared dark, and slightly sinister. Overall, the blush on Sköll's face was a tell tale sign of what she thought of him.

Scabior looked her over; from her strange hair which varied not only in length but in colour as well, to her body that had scars raked across it; many in the form of bite marks or clumped lines as though she had been scratched. Her bright blue eyes only helped to enhance the blush that was forming on her face, which he ignored. He didn't need something as pathetically unattractive as that looking at him as though he was some sort of god.

"Fen 'elp me up will you?"

He said, reaching up for Fenrir's hand. The werewolf glared at him for a moment before lifting his fellow snatcher to his feet.

"Get out of here. Sköll get dressed; come get us when you're ready."

He said before shoving Scabior out the door and following him out. He closed the door, leaving Sköll to prepare herself for the day. She tried her best to still her shaking hands while she dressed as quickly as she possibly could. Finally she pulled a shirt over her head and went to the door only to stop when she heard voices from behind it.

"Why didn't you ever tell us Fen?"

"You didn't need to know,"

He said gruffly, making Scabior chuckle.

"Shame she's not that pretty. If she 'ad been, well the-"

There was a sharp slam which made Sköll jump, though she daren't open the door for fear whatever had happened might still be happening. As it turns out it was, and from just behind the door her father's voice sounded, low and terrible.

"Insult her again and see where it gets you, Scabior."

At that point, knowing that Scabior was likely being choked, Sköll opened the door and moved quickly, side stepping as once again Scabior barrelled into the room, though this time it was he who landed squarely on his arse. Fenrir, who had been bearing his teeth and looking down fiercely at the man sprawled at his feet suddenly softened his features and glanced at his daughter.

"Sköll, go downstairs and get us a tray of toast and eggs will you please? Enough for everyone."

He asked, digging a few galleons out of his pocket. Sköll nodded and grabbing the money, raced down the stairs as quickly as she possibly could. She didn't want her father's temper to flare more than it already had. How exactly she missed the first step of said stairs she would never know, though she knew for certain that she hit every single stair after it. Standing up, she cast a glance around the bar. Everyone was staring at her. Her cheeks flared as she limped towards the bar, pulling herself painfully onto one of the stools.

"Can I have however much toast and eggs this will get me please?"

She asked of the barkeeper, trying to play it off as though she hadn't just tumbled her way down the stairs instead of walking down like a more co-ordinated being.

"Sure love,"

He said, having pity on the poor girl. Sköll smiled until he had turned to make her food when she let the pain of the fall appear on her face. She grimaced sharply as pain shot through her leg when she tried to readjust herself on her stool. That would leave a large bruise she was certain. She nursed it slowly, rubbing around it to numb the pain until the barkeep came back with a tray full of food. She grabbed it and having already paid the man, went as hastily as she could back up to her room where she balanced the tray on her knee while she knocked on the door. Much to her dismay, Scabior was the one to open the door. A blush crept up her cheeks as he inspected her, the food tray, then her trousers as she moved inside the room.

"What 'appened to your trousers?"

He asked, pointing to a rip peeking out from behind her knee. She looked down, took in the damage and sighed. Today was not beginning well. Sköll took a deep breath and set the tray down. They were just jeans. The rip had given them character, she reasoned. There was no reason to let that ruin her day.

"I fell down the stairs, they must have ripped then."

She said, trying to keep her voice light as he and Fenrir each grabbed some toast. With a loud crack two more figures appeared and nicked their own breakfast from the tray.

"I like your girl already Fen, she brings food!"

One of them chuckled while the other was already picking up his second toast. Scabior threw his hands up in the air, nearly tossing his toast out the window.

"Everyone knows about this girl but me!"

"Sköll, this is Chase, the pig over there is Samuel, and of course you've already met Scabior."

Fenrir introduced in a rather unimpressed tone.

Sköll looked them over. This was it. These were the men who would be counting on her, and trusting her to pull her own weight. They expected her to have their backs at all times, and somehow this brought a smile to her face.

"Hi,"

She greeted with a smile. Fenrir grinned, pride in his daughter again lifted his heart. She wasn't intimidated by his men, as so many others could have been. His girl was strong and braver than anyone he knew. She would be alright on this trip, no matter what happened, she would get through it somehow.

"Got the book?"

Samuel asked, finishing off his breakfast with the last bite of his fourth piece of toast. Fenrir pulled the small booklet out of his pocket waved it and pointed at Samuel's eyebrow with it.

"You've got egg on you."

He noted. Sköll giggled as the man hurriedly wiped his face.

"I like eggs."

Samuel muttered, as though that explained why he had gotten them as far up as his eyebrow. Sköll simply shrugged; whatever floated his boat.

"Alright men, pull yourselves together. We've got a list of names here which need to be crossed off. Where do you want to start?"

Fenrir asked.

"Hogsmead?"

Sköll suggested, though the men just laughed.

"That's where everyone else is, love. We need fresh hunting grounds."

Samuel explained. As the men bickered amongst themselves Sköll thought for a moment. Where would she go if she was being hunted? The forest was large and uninhabited, but there wasn't much protection. No... she would head straight for...

"London. The very middle of it."

She said loudly enough that they could hear over their fighting. Scabior looked over curiously. Why would they go to the very place where they were expected to show up? None of the Snatcher teams went there for that precise reason.

A small sparkle in Scabior's eye let Sköll know that her suggestion had clicked in the snatcher's mind while her father, Chase and Samuel were still debating.

"Oy, Lads! The girl's on to something good 'ere."

He said, smacking Chase's arm lightly.

"None of the others 'ave been to the 'eart of London because it's too obvious. People would 'ave found out by now that it's the safest place to be, 'idden amongst the muggles and whatnot."

"Then how are we going to sort out the regular people from the muggles?"

Samuel asked, throwing his hand towards the window as though this was a task that simply could not be done in broad day light in the middle of London.

"A taboo."

Scabior said, pulling out his wand and tapping it over Samuel's head. It was as though Scabior had cracked an egg over Samuel's head, and as the egg dripped down his body, his appearance changed. Scabior then proceeded to tap Chase, Sköll, Fenrir, and then himself in the same manner.

"We'll taboo the word muggle within our area. It should give us something within the first hour."

He explained.

Within a few seconds, Sköll found herself standing before a completely different team, and though she had only known them for a few minutes, she found herself missing their previous forms. Chase had become a middle aged businessman in a nice suite, Samuel had become some sort of teenager with the usual baggy clothing, Fenrir had simply become a less hairy version of himself, though the disguise had given him a sports jacket rather than his usual leather coat. Sköll couldn't help but frown at how utterly different and yet totally normal her team looked. Especially Scabior, who's hair had been magically cut, and who had been given simple jeans and a tee shirt. She hated it. The instant she saw it she wanted to change it back, but she couldn't.

It was only then that she realised that everyone was staring at her.

"What?"

She asked, noticing the smirk on Scabior's face, and the tensing of her father's jaw. Tentatively she shuffled her way to the bathroom and looked into the mirror, letting out a short scream when she saw herself. Her hair had been turned from its mismatch of odd colours into a solid, flowing mass of golden blond hair. Her clothes consisted of some sort of flowing shirt, a beige jacket, skinny jeans, a beanie and scarf. It was an overall very fashionable outfit, but what caught Sköll by surprise was that she had been given an hour glass figure and a size C chest. A significant improvement from the A cup and stick like figure she had been before. Her eyes had been dyed a golden hazel colour to match her hair, and her skin was perfect. Smooth, soft, and completely unblemished. Checking with a quick lift of her shirt she realised that even the worst of her scars – a large scratch she had received from one of her father's recruites- was completely gone. Sköll silently wondered if she could make the change permanent.

"If you're done gawking at yourself, we need to get going."

Scabior said in a voice that suggested he wasn't all that disappointed with her taking herself in like that. In fact she suspected he was quite proud with her transformation.

Sköll came out of the bathroom, trying to appear as though this form was as natural as her other form had been, though Fenrir knew from the way she held herself that she wasn't quite used to the beauty she had been so suddenly given.

"Come on then,"

Fenrir said, touching his daughter's shoulder in a comforting manner before leading his team to their hunting grounds.

~A note from Grizzly~

Hello everyone,

Welcome to the reboot of House of Wolves. I've watched the second movie, seen the whole outcome of things, and got some new ideas for the remainder of this tale.

I've also re-read my story and realised how utterly stupid it sounds. What I was thinking when I was writing I'll never know, nor do I care to remember. Let's just move on shall we?

The next few chapters will be taken down to avoid confusion, so bear with me while I completely re-write this horrible mess of a story.

Thanks for your patience,

Warpath Grizzly


	3. The First Hunt

Not exactly being able to pull out their wands and apparate into the very heart of London, the team was forced to hand over transportation to Sköll. She had spent many months in the muggle world while her father was out hunting or handling the affairs of his pack. She had even gotten herself a job so she was able to have a bit of money during that time. Muggle money of course, but it worked just as well as magical money. She found it very difficult traveling with her group however; not only were they enthralled by the muggle world but she had to watch them because as soon as she went to buy tube tickets, Chase was chasing after a lovely little brunette on her way to work.

"Hey baby, I'm a wizard, want to see my wand?"

He asked, sliding in with ease beside her. The girl, no more than nineteen, looked up at Chase who had probably forgotten that he looked about forty years old, cocked her eyebrow, scoffed and kept on walking. Dejected, Chase wandered back to the group just as Sköll came back with the tickets.

"That was idiotic,"

Fenrir reprimanded while Samuel tried to control his snickers.

"Really mate, you couldn't 'ave chosen a better line?"

Scabior asked, swiping the ticket rather violently from Sköll's hand. He inspected the bit of pink paper, holding it up to the light as though he was testing to see if it was really a legitimate tube ticket.

"What's this rubbish?"

He asked, turning it upside down and sideways. Sköll gave him a rather unimpressed look. He may have been a wizard, completely unfamiliar with using the tube, but the ticket clearly had the words " London Underground" printed on it in blue letters. What did he suspect it was? Some sort of giant acid patch? Some trip that would be...

"It's a train ticket. Just put it in that little slot there when you go through and collect it when it comes out the other end. Hold on to it, you'll need it again. We're at Ealing Broadway right now, alright? We get off at Westminster. If you get lost, remember that we're on the green line. There are maps everywhere."

Sköll instructed while Scabior mumbled something about muggle folly. He turned to the werewolf who nodded, jutting his chin out to Sköll first then Scabior, indicating that she should stick with him. Sköll led the way, knowing that unless she did someone would get lost. Once they had made their way through the gate Scabior glanced back to the rest of his team, noting their position in the crowd. He continued to track them until they were all spaced out evenly in the crowed, waiting for the next train to come by. Fenrir was chatting idly with Chase while Samuel simply stuck his hands in his hoodie pouch and tried to look as teenagerishly angsty as possible. Scabior was about to ask Sköll exactly what that smell was when he noticed her looking miserably at one of her new blond curls.

"What, not a fan of blond?"

He asked, not really all that concerned about what she was a fan of. He just wanted to appear as muggle like as possible. She seemed to snap out of it however and dropped the curl, instead shoving her hands in her jacket pockets.

"Oh no, it's lovely."

She said with a smile, and though Scabior saw right through it, he was very concerned at the fact that she was keeping something from him.

"Don't lie to me."

He half snarled, though he immediately regretted it. The look on Sköll's face reminded him of a puppy that had just been kicked.

"Don't lie to me."

He repeated a little more softly. Sköll picked up the strand of hair she had been playing with and shrugged.

"It's the same colour as my eyes,"

She said gently, letting the tress fall to her shoulder.

"Oh Christ you really are Fen's girl. Always so bloody cryptic about everything."

He snorted as the wind from the train began to howl through the station. The train followed a few moments later, and soon the team was speeding through the dark tunnels of the tube. Scabior sat in silence for a moment before crossing his arms and pouting slightly.

"So what's so wrong with it being the same colour as your eyes?"

He asked, making Sköll chuckle. Apparently the man wasn't fond of puzzles he couldn't solve.

"I like my eyes. They remind me that I am my father's daughter."

She said, earning herself an odd look from Scabior.

"You need reminding?"

He asked as the train slowed in to the next station. Had Fenrir been his father he definitely wouldn't have needed daily reminding. He imagined it would be quite hard to forget that your father was a dark wizard, a Snatcher, and a bloody great big hairy werewolf. Sköll simply shrugged.

Scabior was tempted to remind her that lying to him wasn't an option, but he left her be. It was his policy to keep things open with the team; they should always be able to tell each other anything. He didn't like it, but he would let her keep her secret. If it became an issue later he could always pry it from her.

"Did Fen explain the code?"

He asked, suddenly remembering that she was completely unfamiliar with how they hunted. The girl shook her head, so with a great sigh he began to explain.

"Fen's got the book of names with 'im. If you see 'im with it out, it means 'e's got someone. 'e'll use occlumency to send you a flash of what that person looks like, and where they are. Once you've got the target, push 'im out of your 'ead. It won't be 'ard. Samuel and Fen will take the left flank, you and I will take the right, and Chase, well 'e does what 'e does best. 'e chases. They usually don't try to apparate unless we do. Then, the chase is on."

He said, a smile coming to his face.

"Why not use imperio?"

Asked Sköll. Her father had often threatened to use it to make her brush her teeth when she had been little, so she was perfectly aware of its effects. He had never used it on her of course, though it had been enough to make her scurry to the bathroom and brush on more than one occasion. Later in life Fenrir would admit it hadn't been his finest parental moment.

"You try performing that while running or apparating and tell me 'ow it works out for you."

He said with a scoff. Sköll bowed her head. She wouldn't be trying that little stunt, that was for sure.

The train finally slowed to a stop in Westminster station, and somehow in the bustle the team managed to get themselves out of their respective cars and onto the street without a hassle. Sköll had to admit she was rather impressed by how well the Snatchers had taken to the Tube.

Almost at once Samuel began placing the taboo, his wand safely hidden in the pouch of his hoodie. While he worked on that, Sköll went to a muggle news box and grabbed a paper. She flipped it open to the classifieds, read it over quickly and dropped it on top of the box. Fenrir waited a moment after she had left before picking it up himself, smiling inwardly. It had been kind of her to give him something to read while they waited for their trap to be sprung.

He sat down on a bench a little ways away from the small cafe which Sköll and Scabior had walked into and, being the father he was, watched them from over his paper.

Inside, Scabior and Sköll placed their orders and went to sit down. The elderly lady at the counter had narrowed her eyes slightly at Scabior when Sköll reached into her own pocket to pay. Scabior had to say this deflated his ego a bit, though it wasn't exactly as though he could pay for his own coffee, what with muggle money being so... different. He assured himself inwardly that had he been able he would have paid for both their drinks; besides it was the thought that counted.

"Thanks, love."

He said, gently tugging one of her curls. Sköll cocked an eyebrow at his retreating figure before following him. It hadn't hurt, it had simply been a strange gestured. She shrugged it off and went to sit with him, attributing it to a simple nuance in his character.

"So 'ow much did your dear ol' Dad tell you about this job?"

Scabior asked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. Sköll shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though she was under interrogation.

"That it's fairly dangerous work and that..."

She stopped for a moment, taking in the scent of the man who had just walked by her. She had smelt that particular scent quite recently, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it...

"Well that was shameless,"

Scabior noted, taking a sip of the coffee that had just been brought to him. He had taken her to be a shy and modest girl. He never suspected that she would have the gaul to even speak to a man she was attracted to; never mind take a whiff of a complete stranger. It was sort of creepy, in all honesty.

"He smelt like The Leaky Cauldron."

She explained, lowering her eyes. Scabior cocked an eyebrow, but instead of questioning just yet he turned around and glanced out the window where Fenrir had dropped his paper and was now following the man Sköll had just mentioned; the little red book in his right hand.

Scabior cast a confused glance back at Sköll before getting up to follow the elder Greyback. Noticing his sudden shift in mood, Sköll followed suit.

The pair walked with purpose, tailing Fenrir from the other side of the road. They followed him until he stopped at the corner of Victoria and Broadway, and that was when it happened. A vision of a man in a black coat and a flat cap came into her mind. Sköll scanned the street for him but quickly realised that in such a busy place it would be damn near impossible to find him. She focused instead on the fact that she had seen him passing a canopied bus stop, and looked ahead on her side of the street to see the very same stop. The man with the cap disappearing into a shop, and fighting the urge to give chase, Sköll began to power walk down the street.

Scabior -despite his longer legs- was having a hard time keeping up with her. He didn't know what had set her off, but she suddenly had an air of confidence about her that he found suited her quite nicely. She didn't even look like she was trying to chase her prey. Her stride was one of purpose. She was going to collect him. Her chase was over.

She scanned the shop windows, taking a whiff of the air every now and again. She remembered that he had smelt like the inn, and sure enough, the trail lead into a shop called Pizza Express, right to the back where the bathrooms were.

"In the loo,"

She said to Scabior, before returning to wait outside the door, marking it for her companions. She watched as Chase and Fenrir kept their distance while Samuel came striding forward. The man came out, shaking and pale faced, followed by Scabior who had his hand on the man's shoulder. It looked like a friendly enough gesture, but upon closer inspection Sköll noticed that his fingers were turning white he was putting so much force into them.

"Ivander Skildit,"

He said to Samuel, handing over the man's wand to his fellow Snatcher. Samuel then proceeded to walk away, keeping careful hold of the man's shoulder.

"First catch of the day. Not bad Sköll."

Scabior said, tugging her hair and making the girl blush.

"Is it always that easy?"

She asked, secretly hoping that the answer would be no. Scabior laughed and began walking back towards the area where the taboo had been set up.

"Never."


	4. The Abbey

The rest of the day passed nearly without incident, unless Chase being shot down several times counted as such. It was a source of amusement to be sure, though Sköll did feel a bit of pity for him. Both his cheeks had palm prints on them from being slapped, and Fenrir had chewed him out for attracting too much attention. He was forced to take the younger Snatcher into a bathroom and change his disguise. He went from a middle aged man to an elderly gentleman of about sixty. Fenrir smirked as he watched Chase mope away back to his position, giving Sköll the distinct feeling that her father was punishing Chase for his stupidity.

Scabior watched in amusement as both Greybacks paused in their activities, stretched, and yawned in almost precisely the same manner.

"Sleepy are we?"

He asked as Sköll placed her head in her hands. She had been sitting on a park bench for the past half hour watching people go in and out of Westminster Abbey, wondering what exactly it looked like in there. In all her eighteen years of life she hadn't really gotten out much.

"Just curious. I've never been in before."

She said, jerking her chin at the Abbey's entrance way. Scabior felt the urge to bring her in, but realised once again that he lacked muggle money, and it would probably cost a donation to get in. It then occurred to him that he was a wizard, and a Snatcher, and that legal means weren't exactly his thing anyways. He tugged her hair and motioned for her to get up. As a double decker bus passed he briefly took out his wand, grasped Sköll's hand and apparated into the building.

Once assured that no one had seen anything, he slipped his wand back into the holster at his hips. The look on Sköll's face was enough thanks for his gesture, as her jaw had dropped and her eyes twinkled as she drank in the beauty of the place. The pale marble contrasted so beautifully with the dark wood and the sturdiness of the surrounding stone that she covered her mouth in a gasp before reaching up to take off her beanie. Everything appeared so delicate yet solid at the same time, and so common and yet so precious. Prayers could be heard as numerous as the echoing footsteps around her, and for that singular moment she had never felt happier in her life.

"I've never seen anything like this. Thank you."

She said, beaming up at Scabior before dashing off to inspect a nearby crypt. A quick calculation left Scabior wondering exactly how she could not have seen something like the abbey.

"You've seen Hogwarts."

He noted, feeling the need to remind her that the famous school was far more impressive and imposing than any monastery would ever be.

"Hogwarts? Is that the school Dad went to?"

She asked, cocking her head to the side.

"You mean to tell me you never went to Hogwarts?"

He asked shocked beyond all reason. Fen wasn't the best father out there, but he certainly wasn't the worst. He would have thought that, especially having a werewolf daughter, he would have taught her how to defend herself.

"No, Dad said I was too special to go there."

She said with a chuckle before looking sadly down at the floor, and Scabior couldn't help but feel a sting of pity for her. She had probably seen through a great many of her father's lies.

"Well, we'll just have to teach you ourselves then, won't we."

He said, knowing that Fen would probably approve of the idea, and also that it would boost Chase and Samuel's morales if they could get their mind off the hunt once in a while. He figured it would be good for the whole team, but the fearful look on her face planted a seed of doubt in his mind.

"Oh, really, I don't-"

She stopped mid sentence and took in a deep breath through her nose. She then grabbed Scabior's hand and began taking short and shallow breaths in through her nose as she led him through the abbey. Finally, she sat down on a bench near the courtyard and looked over at a man wearing a green shirt and a pair of black trousers.

"He's got that same smell on him. I'll mark him, send my Dad what you're seeing."

She said, leaving the bench. She grabbed a map from a nearby brochure stand and walked smoothly towards the man, gently tapping his shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

She asked in a submissive voice. She didn't want him panicking and causing problems. The man spun around with a confused look on his face.

"Hi, my name's Sarah, I was just wondering if you could point out where I am on this map. I'm a bit lost."

She said with a kind smile. The man nodded and smiled in return.

"Joe Laurie. You're just here."

He said, leaning in close to point to a section of the map. Sköll took in his scent with each breath, her brain sorting through the scents of his skin, his cologne, his shampoo, and his clothes, right down to the faintest traces of something more fundamental. It was an earthy smell, though sweet as well; something akin to cinnamon but far less pungent. It was the same scent that emanated from the Leaky Cauldron, and now that she thought about it, was present on her father after he came home after months away at work. There was something else as well, not a scent, but a feeling. It was as though he had some sort of bubble around him.

"Thank you, Joe. Sorry to disturb you."

She said with another brief smile. She then made her way to the bench again to see Scabior with a pensive expression.

"His name is Joe Laurie. He's on the list. I think he's got a protective enchantment around him, though."

She said confidently, further confounding the man on the bench.

"Fen just showed me the list. It's him alright, but how did you-"

He paused when he saw Samuel and Fen approaching from the left, while Sköll witnessed Chase coming up from behind. She knew before it had happened that they had blown it.

The moment Chase stepped too close Joe whipped his head up and both men froze like a pair of deer in the headlights. Two seconds later the man had disapparated in a cloud of white smoke, and much to the team's dismay, so did Chase.

"Scabior, after him!"

Fenrir ordered, pulling out his wand to start slowing down all the muggles. He and Samuel would need to wipe all their memories, the consequences being disastrous should one escape. Scabior disapparated and began tailing Laurie while Skoll set about herding the muggles that had witnessed the occurrence. She broke into chase when one man tried to run for his life, and with a swift bound landed atop his back, sending both of them crashing to the ground. She dodged the stunning spell Samuel had sent their way, and went for the next muggle. The woman was running away rather slowly, so it was no hard feat for Sköll to catch up to her. She was just about to jump on her like she had with the other man when the woman turned and Sköll realised that she was pregnant. Picking up the pace, Sköll rounded on her, stopping the woman in her tracks. The brunette let out a frantic cry as she tried to run to the left, however Sköll's quick movements wouldn't allow it. She ran herself left and right, with Sköll's movements guiding her like a dog herding sheep until finally she found herself cornered in a small office off to the right of the courtyard.

Sköll stood in the doorway, watching the woman walk around looking for an escape. She wouldn't attempt to force her way out; that would have severe consequences for both herself and the child. Instead, she approached Sköll cautiously and began to beg. She begged Sköll to let her go, she wouldn't tell she swore, she would do anything if she just let them live.

"I can't let you go. Not yet."

She said, waiting until the chaos had cleared outside. She ignored the weeping woman for a moment to call her father over. He took one look at the woman before taking out his wand again.

"Be careful, Dad,"

She said, not wanting her father to hurt the unborn child.

Fenrir smiled and ruffled his daughter's hair.

"She'll be fine,"

He said before wiping the recent skirmish from the woman's memory.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

She suddenly asked Fenrir.

"Ma'am? My name is Sammie, we received word that you had gotten stuck in here by accident. We just unlocked the door. It must have been terribly stressful for you,"

Sköll said, taking the woman's hand.

"I don't remember any of that."

The woman insisted. Sköll nodded.

"That's perfectly normal ma'am, it's a coping mechanism. Might I suggest you make an appointment with your doctor as soon as you can? Just to make sure you're alright."

She said with a smile as she led the woman out of the abbey.

"You have a nice day ma'am. Sorry about the wait."

She said as the woman let go of her hand and began making her way to wherever she was headed.

"Thank you, miss,"

She called back with a friendly smile.

Sköll waved shortly and went back to her father, who was already placing the muggles on benches so that they wouldn't panic after waking up on the ground. Hopefully the spell would wear off soon, and leave them thinking that they had just had a particularly long train of thought that they had gotten lost in. Sköll dragged the last woman out of the courtyard just as it began to rain heavily outside. She set the blond on a bench while Samuel went to work on her memory.

"That's the last of them?"

He asked. Fenrir let out a great huff as he led his team out of the Abbey.

"So much work for one bloody bounty."

He muttered, watching the rain come down in sheets before him. Scabior and Chase would have a hell of a time catching their target in that sort of weather. Quite frankly he was beginning to worry about them, though he couldn't let it show, especially with Sköll around. He had to set an example, and make it look like everything was under control. The last thing he needed was his own daughter panicking and getting lost in a wild goose chase for her team mates.

Though, as she poked idly at a puddle with the tip of her shoes, he sort of doubted that she was in any real mood to panic right now.

Taking a look at the sky, he saw no sign of either of his men or their target. He was just about to ask Sköll if she wanted to find a bookstore when the red book in his pocket began to vibrate. He touched it gently, soothing it before taking it out of his pocket. He read the message as quickly as it was written across the page before him. He waved Samuel over and relayed the message.

"Intelligence reports say there are at least six groups of targets hiding in a nearby forest. Some of which are suspected O of P members."

"You're getting intelligence from the ministry now?"

He asked. Fenrir smacked him on the forehead with the little red book.

"Not for long if you don't keep your mouth shut,"

He growled as Samuel rubbed his temple.

"The Ministry has a few loopholes, and the reward is well worth the risk,"

Fenrir said more gently, a wolfish grin on his face. If his team could capture a member of the Order of the Phoenix, the bounty would be more than substantial. He gave a short whistle, attracting Sköll's attention, and, like a dog, she came trotting over.

"Samuel, take Sköll back to the room and pack your things. I'll round up Scabior and Chase. Wait for us there."

"Where are we going?"

Sköll asked, excited with the prospect of something new to hunt.

"Kielder Forest."


	5. The Golden Path

After an hour or so of hunting, Fenrir returned to the Leaky Cauldron in a bit of a mood. He hadn't been able to find Scabior or Chase, so he simply left a message with Tom the innkeeper, and apparated Sköll, Samuel, and himself to Keilder. There was nothing they could do now but wait until the two lost snatchers returned, so Fenrir sent Samuel and Sköll out for food while he pitched the tent.

Samuel had been camping once or twice when he was a boy, but it had never quite been like this. Sköll had him following her through the forest at a maddening pace and even with his experience as a snatcher he could barely keep up with her as she sprinted expertly through the trees. Her body twisted and swerved, narrowly avoiding tree branches, stumps, undesirable plants, everything in her path as though she knew exactly where everything was.

Samuel on the other hand, felt completely helpless, not to mention thoroughly emasculated as he stumbled his way through the bush, the basket hanging from his arm causing more problems than the damned thing would be worth in the end. He could have let out a yell of joy when Sköll stopped in a rather dark bit of the forest and cried

"Aha!" As she stooped down and took hold of what looked like a giant white lily pad, growing out of tree. She took it in her hands and gave it a sharp tug. It pulled off without a problem and she placed gently in Samuel's basket as he heaved to catch his breath.

"Did we have to run?" He asked between pants. Sköll just laughed as she went to mushroom after mushroom and pulled them off, careful to leave a few in between those she took away. Once she had finished she looked up towards a tree that had a few mushrooms growing on it. Without a moment's hesitation she lunged herself up the tree and had herself up in its branches in the matter of a minute. She hung herself by her legs from one of the branches, twisted herself around and began tearing of a few more mushrooms.

"I think that should be enough." She said thoughtfully, grabbing the branch and swinging herself forward so as to land gracefully back on the forest floor. She grinned up at him before sprinting ahead again, much to Samuel's dismay.

"Wait! Please!" He shouted at her, hoping to high heaven that she could hear him. She stopped and turned, as though she hadn't noticed he was had been having difficulty keeping up the entire time. She seemed to realise for the first time that he was red in the face, out of breath, and severely flustered at having to carry a basket full of mushrooms.

"Pick up your feet." She said, earning herself a glare. "I don't mean like that. I mean literally, pick up your feet. You're used to walking on sidewalks in the city where nothing will trip you. If you pick up your feet, you won't trip as much." She said, taking the basket gently from him.

"Taking a path might have been a bit more sensible." He breathed, but Sköll just laughed.

"The things we're looking for don't grow on paths Samuel!" He wished they did, though now that they were in a bit of a meadow it wasn't so bad. He made for clearer footing while Sköll made her way around the edges all the while muttering to herself that it had to be around here somewhere. Samuel was just about to ask if she had lost her mind somewhere back in the forest when she let out a cry of "Aha!"

She picked a few brightly coloured flowers and a few more plants that Samuel thought looked like weeds, before stuffing them into the basket and walking happily back over to him. "Do you know the way back?" She asked, looking at him as though he should know.

"Do you?" He asked in a panic, thinking that she had just been running without any direction, though her nod quickly quelled that fear.

"Come on. I'll take you back. Dad said you are about as useful as a toy poodle when it comes to hunting." She said bluntly making Samuel lowered his head.

"He told you about that?"

"Told me about what? He wouldn't tell me why you were useless at hunting, just that you were. He did tell me though that you were quite the clever spell worker. He says there isn't a charm, hex or jinx you can't perform. You're the only one he'll trust with the protective enchantments I bet." She nudged him playfully as they walked back through the forest. Samuel was still frowning however.

"No, Fen's let everyone do them. He always says it doesn't matter because we're the predators." Sköll just shook her head and chuckled knowingly.

"You just watch. He won't let anyone but you cast the protective spells anymore, and if someone does, he'll have you redo them." Samuel, his interest picked, raised an eyebrow at her. "What, you think he would trust his daughter with anything less than the best?" That did it. Samuel was convinced she was right, and he went back to his usual, cheerful self. On the way back Samuel told Sköll stories of the times they had been out Snatching before she had joined the pack. He told her about the time Fenrir had chased Chase up a tree for putting his hair in pig tails in the middle of the night, and how Scabior had once accidentally made it snow inside Fenrir's sleeping bag. He also told her about the time Scabior had been chased by a flock of angry geese when they had been hunting near Stratford.

"I don't think they would really have hurt him, but he was in a downright panic by the time he had found us. I think he forgot he had a wand." Sköll clutched her sides, leaning on a tree as she thought of how ridiculous Scabior would look being chased by angry geese, completely forgetting that he was a wizard and simply running for his life. She had never pictured him to be the type to get himself into that sort of mess.

She was still giggling by the time they reached camp, and by that point Chase and Scabior had returned. She couldn't help but smile when she saw them; as they were back to their original selves. "Did you catch him?" Samuel asked, wording the question that had been forming in Sköll's mind, but she immediately stood stock still at the sight of having a wand pointed threateningly at her. She resisted the urge to shrink back behind Samuel, and simply stood as bravely as she could before the threat of Scabior's wand, hoping to high heaven he intended her no harm.

Scabior, who had been alarmed at the sudden sight of Sköll in her true form, put his wand away. He had somehow managed to forget that he was now being followed around by a nose wiping little whelp of a girl with hair that could terrify Bloody Bones himself. He huffed and stuffed his wand back into its holster, and motioned for her and Samuel to come forward. He could help but notice how Samuel went gladly towards him while Sköll edged closer, traces of fear still lingering in her eyes. He had to admit, he did feel a bit bad for scaring her. He tugged her hair to reassure her, like reassuring a dog that it had done the right thing by coming when it was called.

"Right, we're going 'unting. Samuel, you're to begin on protection spells on Fen's orders," He said, and Sköll nudged Samuel with her elbow, a small grin on her face as if to say 'I told you so'. "Sköll you're to stay 'ere with Samuel. The tent needs cleaning and the beds need making. What's that you've got there?" He asked, suddenly noticing the basket still hanging from Sköll's arm.

"Staghorn, nettles, mushroom-"

"I don't need the bloody inventory, just tell me what it's for." Scabior snapped impatiently. Note to self, thought Sköll, get to the point when you're talking to Scabior.

"Ingredients for supper." She said, trying to be as to the point as she could. Scabior reached over and shifted some of the plants.

"You got all that in there?" He asked jerking his chin to the forest with a raised eyebrow. Sköll nodded timidly.

"Samuel helped." Scabior's eyes flashed doubtfully to Samuel for a moment before returning his gaze to Sköll. He said nothing more, simply turned to follow Fenrir and Chase into the forest. Sköll let out an angry huff as soon as they were out of earshot. "Does it say housemaid on my forehead or something?" She asked bitterly, making her way to the tent.

* * *

Fenrir eyed Scabior wearily as he tried to stun a pair of rabbits. As fast as the snatcher was, the rabbits were faster, and Scabior let out a frustrated roar when not just one, but both hares slipped away from him.

"I don't know why you didn't bring Sköll along." Fenrir said, shaking his head at the younger man. Chase threw in an exhausted noise of agreement as he tried to catch a gray squirrel. Fenrir didn't have the heart to tell him that he wouldn't achieve his goal, simply because he was doing all he could; trying. Scabior on the other hand, seemingly had no heart.

"Chase a squirrel isn't going to feed us all and I will not be munching on nettles for a week. We need to find something bigger. Maybe I will bring Sköll next time instead of you." He said in a harsh tone.

"Enough," Fenrir growled. He knew Scabior could get moody when frustrated, but Fenrir wouldn't have Scabior attacking his mates like that.

"Next time, we'll bring her. She's a better hunter than all of us combined." Fenrir muttered the last bit to himself, but Scabior was close enough that he caught it.

"Really?" He asked in a doubtful tone. Fenrir furrowed his brow.

"Of course she is, she's a werewolf."

"Christ Fen that's sick." Fenrir furrowed a brow as his two subordinates frown disgustedly at him.

"I didn't bite her," He said quickly, suddenly realising that the men thought he had turned his own daughter; a rather painful and condemning process. "She just sort of, turned out that way." He mumbled, pressing his hand to the back of his neck. Chase clapped him on the back and jerked his head to the forest, urging the eldest man forward. Scabior stood still, soaking up the information for a moment. No wonder Fenrir hadn't sent Skoll to Hogwarts. She might have massacred half the students in her first full moon, and then where would that leave them? What if she attacked the child of someone important? He'd be destitute before he could say 'unfair', and he would never have been able to provide for Sköll. He was rather curious however, as to how exactly Sköll had been born a werewolf.

"Was Sköll's mum a werewolf too?" He asked, and received a shocked and almost angry look from Fenrir for it. He thought perhaps he had stepped on a major landmine when Fenrir's eyes suddenly went dark.

"No, she wasn't." His tone was slow, careful, and all too low for Scabior's liking. He had trudged up something terrible that had been buried for a very long time; that he knew. The rest of the trip went by relatively quietly until they returned to the camp and Chase lifted his nose to the air and stated; "I smell bacon."

They walked through the enchantments and instantly the music hit their ears. Samuel and Sköll were singing an old Sea Shantie, twirling arm in an arm in a high stepping dance, the smell of delicious food wafting from out of the tent while jars of blue fire hung glittering from the trees. Upon noticing their return Sköll left Samuel immediately to give her father a greeting hug.

"Do you like it? Samuel made them. He's wonderful at it." She spoke happily, indicating the jars in the trees. Fenrir nodded with a smile and rubbed Sköll's shoulder.

"Very pretty. Did you get the tent ready?"

"And supper. I used a bit of bacon from the stocks." She said, entering the tent to check on the food.

"You should really learn to use better freezing charms on food Fen, I had it defrosted in two seconds flat."

"It's not meant to be bulletproof, Samuel."

Fenrir said pointedly, making Chase chuckle. Scabior took a peek into the tent to see a gas stove full of various pots and pans, Sköll leaning over each one to check the smell of them. Apparently satisfied, she scooped the contents into separate bowls and set them on the table before letting out two short wolfish howls. Apparently this was the Greyback's way of calling each other for dinner, because Fenrir rushed to the table as though he had never had a proper meal in his life.

There was no discussion, only the clatter of forks and knives on plates, and the surprised murmurs of amazement that wild plants could actually taste that good. Sköll had made a sort of Staghorn iced tea to go with their food, and to everyone but Fenrir's surprise, she had even brought along with her a few tarts and treats to have with after dinner tea.

"I haven't eaten this well on a trip since we raided that muggle cabin last winter." Samuel said, after even he had had his fill. The rest nodded in agreement, and while Sköll didn't want them to think she would remain a domestic female house maid type character forever, she was rather pleased with herself for being able to impress them.

"What do you usually eat?"

"Whatever we catch." Scabior said casually.

"What if you don't catch anything?"

"We starve." He said, as casually as before. Sköll looked stunned for a moment, thinking he was fooling around, but the look on the other men's face told her it was true.

"Right. No more starving." She said, clearing her plate from the table, felling incredibly sleepy already. Samuel was kind enough to set the pots and pans to work cleaning themselves, and that left Sköll to get ready for bed. She performed her nightly ritual, brushing of teeth, washing of face, and as she called it, taming of the shrew, which to her was brushing her hair. Being long, it never seemed to want to stay untangled.

She went out, took down one of the jars from the trees, and set the container down next to her bed. She fell asleep by the blue glow, snuggled deep into the warmth of her blanket, even before her father came to kiss her goodnight.

* * *

A Note from Grizzly

So... I'm a bit of an idiot.

I mixed up Chase and Samuel's names in the fifth chapter. I was picturing the character in my head, just calling him by a different name apparently. Anyways, it's all been fixed, sorry about that.


	6. Not A Cat

Sköll had the team swimming in galleons.

So far, she had made a capture a day at the very least, though her record was four, and that had only been in the past week. Doing some quick calculations, Scabior figured that if she continued with her quota, they would each make at least 252 galleons each in that month alone, which was more than Scabior had ever had at once at any point in his life. Sköll had become a valuable hunter, and lucky charm of sorts, and nothing could have made her father more proud. Chase absolutely loved her and Samuel did everything he could to help her when they came home to the tent, much to her chagrin.

"You've been hunting, too, Samuel sit down! You must be tired!" she would say in dismay as he set pans to work on the oven to help her fix supper.

"Yeah but without you we never would have found them," he would reply.

Everything was fine, dandy, and they were one big happy team.

Except Scabior.

He was beginning to get suspicious of her. How did she manage to single out the people that ended up being in the book without lifting a wand? He had been watching her for a week now and not once had he seen her take out her wand. He suspected she might not even own one at this point. She had said she hadn't gone to Hogwarts, but surely Fenrir would have bought her the one tool every witch and wizard should have, and taught her a few spells.

While the others were outside around the fire, enjoying the waning evening light, Scabior had discreetly slipped into the tent, and sat himself down at their table.

"'Aven't got something to read, 'ave you, love?" he asked, as she threw a few sausages into a pan. She looked at him with furrowed brows, nibbled her bottom lip, and went for the small bag in which she kept everything from the tent to the food to her clothes.

"I'm not sure if I have anything you'll like" she admitted, bringing the bag over to him.

"I'll read anything as long as I 'aven't read it before."

This made Sköll laugh as she dug, though now she seemed to be searching for something in particular. She found it quickly, not needing to see the book, but knowing by the feel of it that it was the one she was searching for. She pulled it out and held it close to her chest.

"This book means a lot to me, so please treat it kindly?" she asked. Scabior raised an eyebrow, noting the already tattered condition of the book, but nodded anyway. She held it out almost reluctantly and he took it as gently from her as he could manage to assure her that it wouldn't fall apart while he read it.

"The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux?" he asked, reading the title out loud as Sköll scuttled back to her cooking. He flipped the book open, noting that it had belonged to a muggle library –probably the reason he didn't recognise the title- before, and he wondered silently if Sköll had stolen it. He flipped the book open and hunched over it, but kept his eyes on her.

Why hadn't she simply summoned the book?

He continued to sit there, examining her every move. She had said that this book was precious to her, and perhaps hadn't wanted to summon it, and so he waited patiently like a good hunter for the right time to strike.

She had a pot of potatoes boiling, and he could smell the sausages as they sizzled away in the frying pan. She took out another pan and began fiddling with some ingredients which Scabior figured she was going to make the onion gravy with. She looked around her cooking area, and when she didn't find what she was looking for she wandered over to her bag and began to rummage. She searched for about three minutes before she found what she was looking for. Scabior's eyes narrowed.

"Why didn't you summon that?" he asked, pointing to the bottle of balsamic vinegar in her hand.

"Summon it? I really don't know many spells Scabior, I told you that," she said with a light smile, but that quickly faded when she noticed the wand pointed at her. She looked confused, and the look only got worse when he motioned for her to sit.

"Do you know 'ow much we get paid for each capture?" he asked, and Sköll shook her head. Her pay went directly to her father, she had no idea how much they had made, though she assumed it had been a fair sum as the team had warmed up to her rather quickly.

"We get 9 galleons each for 'alf bloods."

Sköll had made a mental note a while back that every galleon was worth five pounds, so half bloods made 45 pounds for each of them. She nodded her understanding, though she wasn't exactly sure where he was going with the whole ordeal.

"Blood traitors earn us 100 galleons."

500 pounds.

"Muggle borns give us 300."

1500 pounds. Scabior paused and looked her dead in the eye.

"Squibs," he said with particular emphasis on the word, and Sköll sucked in a breath. "Rack up a sum of 500 galleons, each. 'Alf breeds earn the same."

Sköll let out her breath in a tiny 'oh'. She was worth 2500 pounds to the ministry, perhaps even more because she was both a half breed and a squib. She wouldn't have minded that on its own, but now Scabior knew. It was embarrassing enough being a Squib but now she had a price on her head, and she wouldn't put it above him to turn her in. She took a deep breath and called for her father but with a wave of his wand Scabior silenced the scream.

"Don't be stupid. We are 'is protection. We don't turn 'im in because if we did the Dark Lord would come down 'ard on us, and we've grown rather fond of 'im over the years," he said, removing the silencing charm. "You on the other 'and, the Dark Lord knows nothing about; and good thing too because 'e'd kill you the instant 'e saw you."

Here Scabior paused to lick his lips.

"But I know about you," he said smoothly, his eyes locked on hers to make sure she understood the full implication of this. Sköll was trying franticly to work out a plan in her head, how she could escape. She could certainly bite him but Fenrir would just take him into the pack if she did that; and out of friendship too, not just the repayment of protection. She could try to run but that would be idiotic. She really had only one choice and that was to bribe him.

"What do you want?" she asked, fearing what the answer might be, but trying to keep a stern face and a calm exterior.

"Simple. I can't bring you to the Dark Lord, 'e won't give me any reward, 'e'll just murder you and send me off on my merry little way. There's no point. I can bring you to the ministry, but that would only mean a single shot of 500 galleons. 'Owever, at the rate you're going you'll only make me 252 galleons a month. I want you to make what you're worth every month or I might just cut my losses. Understand?"

He asked after he had finished explaining, and Sköll glared, tears threatening in her eyes. She wondered if Chase and Samuel had been a part of this as well, if they had demanded she make 'what she was worth' as Scabior had put it, and clearly that was only what someone was willing to pay for her.

"Now, now, love, don't start with the crocodile tears," he tutted gently. He knew it would hurt her, but this was the job, he needed the money, and while she was already a good hunter, she needed incentive to do better. Now that word was out that there were rewards for captures, other less official snatcher teams had banded up, and there were only so many undesirables to go around.

"You're an insensitive fool, you know that?" she scowled, and returned to her food, which she could smell was just on the brink of being overdone.

"Sticks and stones, love," he said, to which Sköll snorted. He couldn't blame her, he didn't believe in the saying either. He went back to the book, frowning, knowing from experience that he would rather be beaten up than have people tell him he was or was not something. He looked up only when Sköll shifted a plate in front of him, which he thought was very kind of her, until he saw the other plates she was carrying. His sausage was clearly burnt, and he had received approximately two thimbles full of gravy on a teaspoon of potatoes. The others he noticed had gotten mountains, and rivers of everything. _So_, he noted, _Sköll doesn't need sticks, stones, or words to properly insult._

He followed her outside where the others were jovially trading stories around the camp fire, the sky shining brightly under a nearly full moon and a magnificent array of stars. Plates were passed around, and Sköll sat down between Chase and Samuel, ensuring that wherever Scabior sat someone would be able to see his meagre portion of food.

Fenrir chuckled lightly and Chase raised an eyebrow at Samuel, jerking his chin at Scabior's plate. Smauel sniggered and went on telling his story about the first time he'd gone out looking for wand wood, thinking he was going to be some expert wand maker one day like Olivander.

"I still have the scar from those damned bowtruckles!" he said lifting his arm so they could see where one of them had gotten two of its sharp, long fingers right through Samuel's hand. Sköll inspected it closely. She had never seen a boltruckle before, but she could only imagine them to be terrifying creatures if they could so easily put their fingers through a human hand.

"Still twinges a bit," Samuel pouted, looking at Sköll, who laughed. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it delicately.

"There. All better," she said in a mocking tone.

"Have you got any Wolfsbane Potion made?" Scabior asked in a snappish tone to Fenrir. The werewolf nodded.

"Is there any more, Sköll?" Chase asked, lifting is plate and waggling it. Sköll nodded, offering to get it for him. She took Fenrir's and Samuel's plate but when she reached for Scabior's he held it away from her.

"No thanks. I don't much like my food burnt."

"Well it wouldn't have burnt if you hadn't been kept me busy by proving to me how much of a greedy con artist you are."

"At least I didn't have to eat while I was speaking."

"Jerk," she said shortly, going into the tent.

"Keep it up mate, she'll poison you," Chase whispered. Scabior scoffed, tossing his head proudly.

"As if she cou-"

He was suddenly drenched, shocked, and growing increasingly angry with each passing second.

"That'll learn you to be rude," Sköll said as she tossed the now empty bucket away.

"You've ruined his hair Sköll, run!" Samuel cried.

"Go! Now!" Chase urged, and by the way Scabior was advancing on her, she figured she should take their advice. She turned tail, and ran into the trees, Scabior hot on her heels.

"Should we go after them?" Chase asked, Fenrir didn't even look up from his newly filled plate.

"Let them sort things out themselves," he said through a mouthful of food. Though neither Samuel nor Chase questioned him out loud, they both had the feeling that letting Scabior and Sköll 'sort things out' might not be the best course of action.

In the forest, Scabior's heart was racing, his lungs and legs were burning, and his breath was coming in shallow pants. Damn, that minx was fast! She was showing no signs of slowing down, but she didn't speed up either, which meant she couldn't keep going at that pace forever, and when she slowed, he would catch her. She must have noticed herself becoming slower because as soon as her pace died down from the full out sprint she had been going at, she lunged herself up into the nearest tree, and shimmied up the trunk, eventually wedging herself between it and the thickest of the high branches she could find. She was out of his reach, but the tree wouldn't support her weight indefinitely.

He took out his wand and shot a spell purposefully to scare her over the top of her head.

"Get down 'ere!" he called, slowing to a walk and circling the tree she had trapped herself in. He would really have to warn her about trapping herself, some other time though. Right now he was too aggravated to do much of anything but yell at her.

"No! You'll just try to collect on my 500 galleons!"

"I won't take you to the Ministry, just get down 'ere!"

The chase had, he thought, been enough to ensure she would never attempt anything so foolish with him again. He didn't want to collect on her money, honestly. She would make more money for him if she stayed by his side, in fact he had never really thought giving her in at all. He just wanted her to think he had. It would take a serious betrayal to make him even consider handing her over. He was just about ready to stow his wand when she spat, "As if you could!"

Scabior threw a jinx up into the tree, sneering up at Sköll. How dare she use his own words against him! She ducked the jet of light, and let out a snarl.

"Squib! You can't duck my spells forever!" he shouted, throwing another curse at her, feeling his anger lessen each time the tree lost some branches. Sköll slipped easily from one branch to another, and Scabior, knowing which branch she was going to next, sent a spell flying towards it which caused it to crack at the base. As soon as she put weight on it, it snapped and Sköll fell, trying to catch herself as she went, but she ended up landing with a limp thump on the forest floor.

* * *

A note from Grizzly

Just wanted you to know that I found out how to pronounce Sköll's name properly, with the O-Umlaut (the two dots over the o), and the O is pronounced the same as a french E. I would give you a better explanation of it, but it's so much easier to look up how to pronounce a french e on youtube than it is to look up an o umlaut. I've just been pronouncing her name like the scaul in scaulding hot water.

~G


	7. A Bit Of Acid

"Mediwizard! 'Ealer! ANYBODY WITH A BLOODY WAND! I need 'elp!"

Scabior's voice rang out harshly through the gleaming white corridors of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He raced forward up to the first floor, yelling his fool head off along the way for anyone who could help him. Sköll screamed in agony, her hand over her face, puss and blood oozing from between her fingers.

The instant Sköll had fallen from the tree he had known something was wrong, and he kicked himself mentally, once again, for not noticing the stench the bundimuns produced earlier. Just under the tree a growth of bundimuns had made their home in a rotting log. If Sköll had only hit the log, things would have been fine; he could have brought her back to the camp, and had Fenrir heal her in two seconds flat. The bundimuns however had complicated things beyond anything Scabior had been prepared to face. Not exactly happy about having their residence intruded upon and endangered, they had spat their acid directly at Sköll's face. Within seconds the flesh had begun to melt away from her cheek, crawling its way over her nose and eroding the skin dangerously close to her eyes.

Reasonably, Sköll had panicked. Her screaming had sent adrenaline ripping through his veins, but he could handle that. He felt that every day on his job. What he couldn't stand was when a team of three healers, all in lime green uniforms had rushed into the room and Sköll's shrill cries were abruptly ended. It was as though all the adrenaline that had been pumping through him suddenly turned to ice, sending an eerie chill through his being. Scabior paced nervously, up and down, up and down, up and down, on the verge of wearing a hole in the tiles. He hadn't exactly expected to end up there of all places that night, but that wasn't on his mind as he continued to let his feet work out the frustration he felt welling up in his throat.

Scabior had desperately wanted for Sköll to start screaming again.

The door to the room she was being treated in was closed, had no windows, and Scabior wasn't sure he wanted to open it. He could live another few minutes not knowing for sure if he had killed her. As long as he didn't know, he could convince himself he hadn't.

His head shot up when the door opened and a green clad witch with a friendly face popped her head out.

"Mr. Samuel?" she asked in a kind tone, and Scabior nodded, knowing that this must have been a name Sköll had given the healers.

A huge rush of relief flooded him as the healer gave a genuine smile. She stepped out of the door and closed it behind her.

"Your fiancée is waiting for you. She'll be ready to go home as soon as we can get her a potion. It shouldn't take more than half an hour."

"Thank you, ma'am," Scabior said in an almost whisper, his voice rough from the racket he had made coming in, and from the continuous strain of guilt he felt.

"Just be a little quiet for her, she's got a bit of a headache she said."

More like a massive migraine, thought Scabior, but he only nodded and pushed past the healer to the door. He opened it and resisted the urge to turn around and chunder behind the door as the guilt overwhelmed him.

Bandages covered most of Sköll's face and head, with blotches of red and yellow seeping through at odd places. She gave a weak smile but turned her head so he couldn't see the damage.

"'Ow're you feeling?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.

"My head hurts a little..." she chortled, but quickly stopped with a wince. The rest of the healers cleared out, leaving Scabior and Sköll alone in the room.

"You told them you were my fiancee?" he asked, trying to get her mind off the pain, but this seemed to only upset her.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think of anything else. They were about to knock me out and I wanted them to tell you everything that had happened if things... if things went wrong," she answered, lowering her head a little. "I didn't think they would tell you the details if they thought you were just my boyfriend, and I didn't have a ring to prove I was your wife."

Scabior nodded, admiring her clarity of mind even when suffering the pain she had. "We'll get you 'ome soon, they're just getting you a bit more medicine," he said, lowering his head. He took a deep breath before raising it again, looking Sköll in the one eye that he could see. "I think we need to come to an understanding."

"An understanding?" Sköll asked, going to turn her head to face him, but thinking better of it. She didn't want him to see the mess of bandages that she knew must have appeared quite horrible from the way he had looked at her when he'd entered the room.

"You need me," he said bluntly, and Sköll cast a glare his way. "You do. You need someone to look out for you, make sure you don't get caught by something you can't 'andle." _You need someone who can do magic, because Merlin knows you can't., _he added mentally, and she seemed to catch his drift. "And I need you," he admitted, but added quickly, "you're the best hunter I've got."

"So you're puppy-sitting, is that it?" she asked in a rather snappish tone. In her mind she was quite capable of taking care of herself, but Scabior disagreed. They had been too long without having someone fight. There were always the brave ones that would stand their ground, and if Sköll ran into one of those, then she wouldn't stand a chance.

"Essentially," he said with a bit of a smirk. Sköll glared. She seemed to glare a lot more when she had medicine running through her system. Scabior found himself wanting to aggravate her further just to see her get mad. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but she had quite a cute wrinkle over her nose when she was angered.

"Face it love, you didn't do so well against magical moss. 'Ow do you think you'll do against a wizard?"

Sköll crossed her arms, and stared at the floor, which Scabior took as conceding defeat.

"You'll protect me?" she asked after a moment.  
"I'll jinx the paper that gives you a cut," he confirmed in a mocking tone. She looked at him full on, not bothering to be embarrassed about the bandages.

"From anything?" she asked, and it seemed like such a serious question that he couldn't tease her.

"Anything," he said firmly, making a slight blush rise to Sköll's cheeks as a healer came in and handed her a small vial of green liquid that matched her uniform.

"Drink that up before you go to bed, and don't eat any strawberries for the next week. Don't apparate or use the floo network for the next few days either, you'll splinch and undo all our hard work," she instructed. Sköll nodded her understanding and Scabior helped her up. As they made their way slowly from the room and down into the lobby.

"We're going to need to find a telephone," she mumbled, earning an odd look from Scabior.

"One of those muggle contraptions you speak into?" he asked, making Sköll give a short giggle.

"Yeah, one of those. Give me a disguise, would you? Make me pretty?" she asked with a bit of a laugh. Scabior tapped his wand as gently as he could over Sköll's head, getting rid of the bandage and turning her into a rather busty redhead. The pair stepped out onto the cool street, the heat of the day having been eliminated by the oncoming night.

"We're just going to have to apparate I guess. I forgot, phones need money to work."

"You'll just splinch, and we'll end up back 'ere anyway. What we need..." Scabior drawled, looking around for something he could use to get Sköll somewhere she could rest.

"Is a victim," Sköll filled in, unnerving Scabior slightly.

"Can you cast imperio on a moving target? Say, one that's in a car?" she asked, making him raise an eyebrow. "Trust me," she said, leading him towards a more populated street. Discreetly, Scabior drew his wand, holding it behind his back and pointed it at an oncoming car. It slowed, and much to Sköll's delight, stopped right in front of them. She flung open the door and got in, scooting herself over to the other side of the car, and patting the seat next to hers. Scabior, who had never been a car in his life, got in rather cautiously.

"Make him go forward," Sköll commanded, and the car began rolling. "Good thing he was the only one in the car. I'll tell you when to make him turn."

The ride took nearly an hour, and by the end of it Sköll was nearly asleep and Scabior was mentally exhausted. He had never held a spell for so long.

"Wipe his memory," she said, getting out of the car, and waddling her way over to a rather dingy looking door in a thick grey wall. "That'll need unlocking," she said, pointing half-heartedly to the lock. Once inside they made their way up the stairs and into a tiny, two room flat, as grey as the wall outside. He removed the disguise from Sköll as a sort of automatic process, knowing that if Sköll had led them here, that they were safe in this place.

"This is where Fen lives?" Scabior asked, seeing the wilted flowers on a table, an obvious attempt by Sköll to bring something bright and lively into the place.

"Not really." She grimaced, having just downed the small vial that the healer had given her. "Mostly he lives with the pack, or with you guys," she said, wobbling her way over into another room. Scabior paused to look at a fridge, where finger paintings from years past were held up by magnets, and notes in Fenrir's handwriting that made promise after promise to bring food for her, or to be at her dance recital on Tuesday. Scabior silently wondered just how long ago Sköll had been in dance classes.

"Scabior?" she called softly, and he made his way into the bedroom, which honestly wasn't much of a bedroom but who was he to judge. He didn't have a flat of his own.

"Can you get rid of pain?" she asked, creaking her good eye open. Scabior frowned.

"No love, I'm only good at causing it," he said, touching a strand of her hair rather than pulling it.

"How very fitting," she mumbled, closing her eye and patting the bed beside her. When she didn't feel it shift, she opened her eye again. "There's no couch. It's either this or the floor."

Scabior sighed, kicked off his boots and lay down next to her, and for the first time that evening he realised that when they got back to camp, her father was likely going to murder him.

* * *

A Note From Grizzly

I drew Sköll for those of you who wish to see her.

art/Skoll-Greyback-315422179

You may also have noticed that my paragraphs and dialogue are now connected properly, that's all Blaklite's doing. She said, and I quote, "Can we discuss something?" and proceeded to go on a rant about how my dialogue grammar sucked. So from now on I will strive to break myself of the horrible dialogue-speaker-seperation habit.

Thanks,

~G


	8. Into The Fire

Being a werewolf, Sköll's nose was better than any humans, and having been born a werewolf might even have given her some sort of extra advantage over those wolves that had been created. The smell that was wafting into her nostrils that morning however was something that was so horrifying that she doubted anything could miss it short of having no nose. She raised her head, despite the pain that shot through her temple, looked up, and blushed furiously as she felt the residual heat from Scabior's body beside her. The thought that she had been beside him all night nearly made her forget about the stench that appeared to be coming from her kitchen. She focused her senses, noticing for the first time that Scabior appeared to be whispering harshly to a pan that was coughing and sputtering over the stove. He had a soup ladle clutched in one hand and his wand in the other, looking as though he was ready to beat the pan to death if he didn't get his way soon.

"What's going on?" Sköll asked, struggling to her feet, and nearly tripping over the sheets in the process.

"Your bloody pan 'as been giving me 'ell all morning. Keeps coughing up the damned eggs." He hissed at it. The pan scooted back from him in fear, wheezing and spluttering in misery. Sköll stared at it.

"Did you enchant it?" She asked to which Scabior gave a scoff.

"No, I gave it a chocolate frog and now it moves." Sköll looked down at the egg at her feet and gave it a sniff.

"No wonder it spit them up, these went bad ages ago." She mumbled, going to rub an itch in her eyes, but feeling bandage under one hand instead of skin, she let her hands fall to her sides. "Let me just get cleaned up and we'll get food." She said, and sidled off to the bathroom. Closing the door quietly behind her, she looked deeply into the mirror at the horrifying scene before her. She was only surprised Scabior hadn't let out a terrified yell when he'd seen her. The bandages were swollen with fluid, and she could see something that looked very much like damaged flesh peeling off from her nose. She swallowed and steeled herself against what may have happened during the night.

Outside, Scabior had abandoned the pan -which had taken to trying to spit the remaining egg out into the sink- and made his way on stealthy toes to the bathroom door. He could hear the soft rustling of the bandages coming off, and wondered silently whether or not he should tell her it was bad, even by magical standards. He heard a soft gasp come from inside and let his fist tap the door.

"'Ow does it look?" He asked, but Sköll didn't say anything. She opened the door a crack, and only showed the uninjured side of her face.

"Could you make me look normal please?"

"Can't do that if you're in there, girl. I've got to be able to see you." He said, pushing the door open a little further. It was a total crock of course, he could have just stuck his wand in the crack, tapped her over the head, and changed into whatever he wanted, but he was curious. What didn't she want him to see?

She pulled the door all the way open, careful not to let her injury show in the small bathroom mirror, and kept her face turned away from him. "There, now you can see me." She said, but Scabior shook his head.

"Come on, love," He urged, taking her chin between his long fingers and turning her head. He had to fight very hard not to laugh. Not because it was funny in the least, but because the moment had been far too intense, and her injuries were far greater than he had imagined. He felt uncomfortable, looking at the acid singed flesh, now an angry red scar that covered a good portion of her cheek, nose and ear on one side, and had burnt off small bits of hair here and there. Her eye had gotten caught in the acid, and although the mediwizards had managed to save it, it was now covered in blood that couldn't be blinked away. Scabior hadn't exactly thought her beautiful when he had met her, but seeing her with that mark made him feel a deep appreciation for the once smooth, relatively unblemished skin she once possessed. Remembering that she had said she liked her eyes the best, he pointed to the red one and muttered "That'll go away in a few weeks."

Sköll nodded, but pulled her chin away from his grip and covered up what she could of the injury. Scabior gave himself a mental kick. She would have to hide for something that he did to her. It wasn't fair.

Once she had cleaned herself up a bit, and he had cast the disguising charm to her specifications, he jerked his head towards the door.

"Come on, I'm starved." He growled, tapping his foot in pretend impatience. He wanted to give her all the time in the world she wanted to prepare and he cursed those men who complained about their girls taking hours to do themselves up properly. They didn't know just how lucky they were that their women were taking that much time just to impress them, instead of taking so long just to look normal. Still, he wanted her to think that nothing was out of the ordinary, and so he nagged her.

"What about the pan?" She asked, looking at it as it paced back and forth on the stove, clanking along at a slow pace. "It looks miserable." Sköll had no idea if it would help the little pan or not, but she put a bit of water in the sink and some soap. "You can wash up, if you want, to get that egg off you." She said to it, unsure if it would understand. To her surprise the pan handle gave a little wag as though it was a tail on a dog, and it waddled it's way more jovially towards the sink. She was no expert on pans, but it seemed to be happier there. "Just don't make a mess." She said to it, and with that it gave a happy wiggle in the water, and so Sköll left it to its business. Scabior enchanted a brush to help the pan clean itself, and locked up the place once he and Sköll were outside.

"Where to?" He asked after taking in a deep breath of morning air. Sköll motioned up the street.

"There's a bakery nearby." She said, taking a few tiny steps forward, nausea suddenly flooding her throat. She covered her mouth and leant up against the wall.

"Can you even walk?" Scabior asked, noticing her broken pace.

"I'll be fine." She said with a sort of weak smile, and tried from that point to keep herself as steady as she could. She couldn't have Scabior thinking she was weak, that a pile of 'magical moss' was all it took to knock her down. They approached the bakery, and Scabior's mouth began to water at the scent of the bread. He was about to stroll his merry way into the store when he noticed Sköll had stopped.

"The smell is getting to me, here," She explained, giving him a note for twenty pounds. "That should be more than enough for whatever you want, could you just grab me a croissant please?"

Scabior looked around for a moment; unsure whether leaving her outside alone was such a good idea. She was a known snatcher now, and should anyone decide they were going to risk attacking her, they would find her an easier target than they would probably have imagined. Still, if the smell was bothering her then he would only be compounding the problem he had created yesterday by forcing her into the bakery.

"Fine, but you stay 'ere. I mean it, don't move. I want to be able to see you from the window." He said, tugging her in front of the window so he could keep an eye on her. He made his way in and stood in the queue, not particularly paying attention to anything until one group of girls became rather loud.

"Oh my God, is that her?" Asked one, tapping her friend's shoulder as Scabior cast an annoyed glance backwards. Three girls, two brunettes and a blond were cackling loudly as they directed their surprisingly malicious gaze out the window of the shop towards Sköll. Scabior's muscles tensed, but he remained in line. He didn't want to cause an unnecessary fuss, and he highly doubted they would physically attack her.

"Are you kidding, Jessica? How could that not be her? Just look at her hair it's the same as when she was in high school, I'm willing to bet it has a permanent indent in it now from being in a pony tail all the time." The second girl said with several scoffs thrown in. He glanced at Sköll who was looking with seemingly great interest at the pavement below her feet. That was how Sköll had looked in high school? Why had she asked for that look when she could have become anyone she wanted with a flick of his wand?

"I bet she remembers what we did to her, that's why she's not looking at us." One snickered. He wanted to ask what they could possibly have had the gaul to do to a werewolf, but then remembered two very important facts. The first was that Skoll had probably not advertised her lycanthropy to her school mates, and the second was that she was a door mat at the best of times.

"Can I help you, sir?" The woman at the counter asked. Scabior shook himself from the depths of his thoughts and looked at the display.

"One of those," He pointed to a Blackberry Danish, "And one of those," he said, pointing to a croissant. He handed the woman the money just as the girls gave another laugh.

"We should go say hello!" One of them suggest, and Scabior's nerves pricked. He hoped they weren't speaking about Sköll, but he didn't think he would have any such luck. Sure enough, they got outside and began talking to her. The woman came back with the breakfast, and as soon as the change was in his hand he went outside.

"Well, we're glad you got all the blood and cum out in the end." He heard the blond say before the girls left, one of them deliberately knocking herself into Scabior. "Oh, sorry." She said with a flirtatious smile, pressing her breasts into him before righting herself and rejoining her friends. He looked back at her, wondering how often that tactic worked on men like himself, before turning back to Sköll.

"Breakfast, love." He said, handing her the bag. She opened it up and sniffed.

"Blackberries?"

"What? No, you 'ave mine. 'Ere." He said handing her the other bag. She traded, and once again, sniffed the bag.

"Chocolate, thank you." She said with an appreciative smile, but she sealed the bag and simply held it.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"Not hungry at the moment." She mumbled, again with a small, completely fake grin before looking away from him, down the street. Scabior wasn't sure what to do. He could tell her to not let those girls get to her, but as far as he could see she was trying her hardest to do just that. Telling her to do it would just make him sound patronizing. She needed to eat, otherwise she wouldn't recover, she wouldn't hunt, and although he wouldn't hold to his promise of turning her in, Umbridge might have a thing or two to say about their recent ineffectiveness.

"It's odd seeing you refuse anything. Normally you scarf everything down." He said smoothly. That would get her eating, for sure. She wasn't like those girls who ate salads every day because they thought everything else was bad for them, so a reminder of her appetite should have done the trick. Sköll however, just turned her eyes towards the pavement, letting out a soft 'oh'. Scabior cocked an eyebrow. It hadn't worked?

_You're calling her a pig, you moron,_ the voice in his head rang out, and his face fell. Oh, indeed.

"Go on, just take a little. Otherwise you won't go back to your big, strong self." His conscience slapped a palm against its forehead. He had just dug the grave further.

_Just shut up now or she'll never eat again,_ it advised, and he did as he was told. He shut up. To his delight however, Sköll took out the croissant, and began nibbling on one of the ends, a contented smile on her face.

_He doesn't think I'm weak! _She delighted. Scabior was about to bite into his own breakfast when Samuel entered his mind, showing him an image of a very angry werewolf father, bearing his teeth.

"Where is she!?" He roared and Scabior damned near dropped his food. He was a dead man for sure.


End file.
